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Two years ago, right wing Fox News loudmouth and conspiracy theorist Sean Hannity (or maybe it was Bill O’Reilly — what’s the difference?) started foaming at the mouth about a fictional “war on Christmas” because Starbucks decided to use plain red coffee cups instead of cups having printed Christmas decorations on them. Oh, the horror! Red coffee cups! No snowflakes or Christmas trees (as if those things have anything to do with Christmas anyway, because they are actually pagan symbols of the Winter Solstice). Sweet Baby Jesus, Christians are being persecuted! What’s next, will the libruls start throwing Christians to the lions, like Nero did?

Oh, but the Red Cup Heresy was NOTHING compared to the horrors Starbucks is forcing upon far right evangelical Christians in 2017. No, now they’re promoting (drum roll, please) The Gay Agenda! Oh dear God in Heaven, Starbucks is the right hand of Satan! What will we tell the children? This is an attack on the Traditional Family! The Deep State (with George Soros providing the funds) is behind this ungodly propaganda, and the next step is One World Government.

Now at first glance Starbucks seems to be going overboard making up for those offending red coffee cups of two years ago, because of the excessive busy-ness of this year’s holiday oops, Christmas cups. They have so many decorations on them that even Santa’s elves might have epileptic seizures. The most offensive thing about them is that they are tacky.

But no, tackiness isn’t the problem for these Fox News mainlining, MAGA-hat-wearing, Birther conspiracy believing, Roy-Moore-is-Not-a Pedophile-Well-OK-Maybe-He-Is-But-We’re-Supporting-Him-Anyway-Because-He’s-A-Righteous-Dude group of evangelicals — a group of extremists who see whatever they want to see, even if that thing does not exist. See, the problem here isn’t tackiness or pagan symbols or the lack of pagan symbols (plain red) on a throwaway coffee cup. No, it’s the two clasped hands on the upper part of the cup. Oh Dear God! Those are lesbian hands! Starbucks is promoting The Gay Agenda by printing a picture of lesbians holding hands!

Let’s use some critical thinking here (something the types of people screaming about hidden Gay Agenda on Starbucks cups are not too familiar with). Look very closely at those two clasped hands. It’s a stretch, in my humble opinion, thinking they even look like two female hands. One or both could be male. One is bigger than the other, after all. The hand on the left appears to be wearing bangle bracelets, while the hand on the right (the bigger one) is wearing no jewelry. Even if it is two women, why do they have to be lesbians? Maybe they’re just BFFs. Or mom and daughter. Or sisters.

Conclusion:There is no Gay Agenda hidden in Starbucks coffee cups. It’s nothing more than another stupid distraction so Fox News need not address the real and serious issues our country is facing.

We Christians already know the Gospels are filled with writings about Jesus instructing his followers to take care of the “least among us” — the poor, sick and otherwise afflicted. We also know Jesus preferred the poor and less fortunate over the rich Pharisees of his day. There’s not much argument about how Jesus felt about the greedy and the selfish, which is why the Christian Right usually references the Old Testament with its harsher, angrier God. They can always find something there to use to make their greed, lack of compassion, and exploitation of the less fortunate for their own nefarious purposes (usually to enrich themselves) seem somehow moral, even God’s will. They’re good at cherry picking from the Old Testament to excuse their un-Christian views, and cherry pick they must, because there’s plenty in the Old Testament that condemns those who worship mammon and turn their backs on the less fortunate.

No matter what version of the Bible is used, the message conveyed is the same: we are to take care of and show compassion for the least among us, not exploit them and take away the little they have to enrich the already-wealthy. This is exactly what the christians in the current Republican Party (that is not a typo; I will not use a capital C to describe them because in my view they are not Christians) are trying to ram through the Senate in dark secrecy (which is in itself evil and dishonest). Their “healthcare bill” is a lie. It is nothing but yet another huge tax break for the richest 1% that will strip healthcare away from middle class and poor Americans, including the disabled and elderly (many who rely on Medicaid if they are in nursing homes or residential treatment since Medicare only pays a limited amount for long-term services); children, people with pre-existing conditions, older people like me who are still too young for Medicare (which, along with social security, might be gone by the time we hit age 65 or whatever the magic age is now) and families of limited means of any health insurance at all.

The huge irony here is this is the so-called pro-life party, but all they are is pro-birth. They care more about “the sanctity of the embryo” than about a sick child who needs medical care who they would gladly deny the right to see a doctor if her parents can’t afford it. If she dies, oh well, too bad, it was either “God’s will” or “her parents should have made better choices.” These sociopaths and their sycophants will continue to get their Cadillac health care plans though, paid for by our taxes, while many of us must sacrifice our own right to see a doctor if we become sick, or risk losing everything we own. Mike Pence once said that people who will lose their insurance “don’t need healthcare — they need more Jesus.” Well, Mr. Pence, since you’re apparently one of God’s chosen ones who seems to know exactly what the rest of us who are less blessed than you need, why don’t YOU give up YOUR Cadillac plan and rely on faith healing for yourself and your own family? If our only option after you rob us of healthcare is appealing to God for a cure and that’s supposed to be good enough for us, why isn’t it also good enough for you? Give up your healthcare plan so at least we’re all on a level playing field. No? I thought not. Of course, you don’t believe in fairness, because as one of God’s Elect, you deserve healthcare and I do not.

The hypocrisy and callousness of these swamp creatures is staggering.

Many innocent people will die if this abomination passes. I look at Mitch McConnell, the turtle-faced, dead-eyed, smirking, Koch Brothers-funded ringleader orchestrating the secret dealings to pass this cruel travesty that will help only the most wealthy and the corporations (people just like himself), a “man” who has the temerity to try to ram this bill through in dark secrecy without anyone knowing what’s in it except him and a few of his equally wealthy cronies — and he makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He — perhaps more than anyone else in this administration (and they are all horrible human beings from everything I have seen of them) — reminds me of the Undead — some demonic swamp creature who seems to garner pleasure from the idea that millions of people will suffer and die. And he’s not the only one.

The spectacle of the smirks, backslaps, laughter, beer toasting, and glad-handing going on among McConnell, Paul Ryan, Mark Meadows, Trump, and so many other of these hate-filled white racist thugs at the Rose Garden party after “Trumpcare” passed the House back in May was a wake up call that sent chills through my soul. I realized with no uncertain terms that these creatures sold their souls for Mammon and walk on the side of darkness. If they profess to be Christian, it’s merely a talking point intended to gain support from the gullible red state religious types who blindly believe everything this cabal of Dark Triad power-mongers and their lying, gaslighting, fake news-generating pundits on Fox News, Breitbart, and InfoWars tell them. Their followers and supporters are in my prayers because to my mind, they are victims of a dangerous and powerful cult whose doctrine is anathema to anything Jesus taught.

Here are passages from the OLD TESTAMENT (I’ve included many versions of the Bible to illustrate it’s not just in the translation) that show that Jesus message in the Gospels is still God’s will for us. God is a constant and his love is for ALL of us, not just a chosen few.

Proverbs 22:16

Verse(Click for Chapter)

New International Version
One who oppresses the poor to increase his wealth and one who gives gifts to the rich–both come to poverty.

New Living Translation
A person who gets ahead by oppressing the poor or by showering gifts on the rich will end in poverty.

English Standard Version
Whoever oppresses the poor to increase his own wealth, or gives to the rich, will only come to poverty.

James 2:13
For judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Proverbs 22:22
Do not rob the poor because he is poor, Or crush the afflicted at the gate;

Proverbs 28:22
A man with an evil eye hastens after wealth And does not know that want will come upon him.

Ecclesiastes 5:8
If you see oppression of the poor and denial of justice and righteousness in the province, do not be shocked at the sight; for one official watches over another official, and there are higher officials over them.

I’ve avoided posting about this because it’s been both so infuriating and so depressing I don’t want to “contaminate” my blogging pleasure just to write about it. But write about it I will, because the situation has reached a point of ludicrousness that would be funny if it wasn’t making me feel all ragey and insane. Right now I just feel like screaming and I feel helpless too, because there’s really not a damn thing I can do to get it resolved.

Most of you know I rent my duplex. The house I live in is over 100 years old (it was built in 1908) and has lots of charm and many of its original features. However, old houses (that haven’t been kept up with and brought up to code) have their dark side. The darkest and most irritating thing about this house is the atrocious plumbing.

I don’t think the plumbing was ever modernized or brought up to code. There is no water pressure valve, at least not one that’s easily accessible. There is no accessible crawlspace to access the plumbing, which means if anything goes wrong, the only way to tell what the problem is is to dig up the kitchen floor and get under the house that way.

The water pressure has always been terrible. But over the past two weeks, it’s gotten really bad. So bad you cannot take a shower at all, and it takes me 45 minutes to fill the tub. By the time the tub is sufficiently full to actually get in it to take a bath (about halfway) the water has already turned cold. If you are running any faucet in the house (there are three — the tub, the bathroom sink, and the kitchen sink), you cannot run another one at the same time.

I have been texting and calling my landlord and at first all he did was ignore me. (I do not have a lease; it is month to month–so technically I have no rights as a renter). I’ve been saving all the text messages in case I need them later. I finally lost my patience. After an angry text from me, in which I threatened to not pay the rent until the problem was fixed (and let him know I’d have to buy a gym membership just so I could take showers), he told me to find a plumber myself, one who would do a “cheap” estimate.

I do not know any plumbers, and know zilch about what they charge or who is any good, so I had a friend of my daughter’s who is an unlicensed plumber look at the situation. He said he couldn’t even do an estimate because there is no access to even look and see where the problem would be. He also told me that fixing it would involve several things, including carpentry since the kitchen floor would need to be torn up and replaced.

I texted back my landlord explaining that the problem involved a lot more than just snaking a sink, and contracting would be involved. I also reminded him that as the tenant, researching plumbers and contracting was not something I knew how to do and was not my responsibility anyway. He answered back, saying he’d send his “guy” (a drunk handyman named Roger with a bad attitude) out to assess the situation. Fine. I didn’t care. Let his drunk jimmy-rig something. As long as I got water, I didn’t care if he had to use drinking straws and duct tape them together. And put a piece of plywood or something over the huge hole he’d have to dig in my kitchen floor to access the pipes.

He said Roger would be out yesterday or today. Well, he didn’t show up either day. I called my landlord (Roger refuses to speak directly to tenants) to ask about this. I was told that Roger had arranged to send out the electric company to look at the wiring for the house, since he’d have to use a backhoe to dig up part of the yard to get to the plumbing. They were supposed to be here this afternoon. I informed my landlord that hadn’t happened.

He told me to call them myself. I called Duke Energy, and was told they didn’t take care of “underground services.” I was given the phone # to a government agency that supposedly takes care of “underground” matters. I only got a menu of options, and finally was asked to submit a “ticket number” to get help.

Huh? A ticket number? I didn’t have a ticket number! I called back my landlord and asked him what the hell I was supposed to do. I couldn’t call Roger either since I don’t have his number and he doesn’t want tenants calling. My landlord assured me Roger was “taking care of it” and he would be in touch with me when he has more information. He also told me that he could evict me if I don’t pay my rent, regardless of the fact I am getting practically no water. Because I don’t have a lease, he could probably actually do this, so I agreed to pay the rent, but told him I’d like it reduced. He said he would consider this.

Meanwhile I have no real solution to my plumbing issue, and tomorrow night is supposed to go down to 17 degrees and the pipes (which are much thinner than standard and are also not insulated) are very likely to freeze. Last winter I was able to avoid that nightmare (I’ve had my pipes freeze before and then burst when it got warm again) by keeping all the faucets dripping when it got cold, but now I don’t even have enough water pressure to run more than one faucet at a time, even at a drip. So I have no idea what I am going to do.

Please don’t suggest moving, because I don’t have enough money to do that. I don’t expect any advice anyway; I just needed to vent.

I live in a duplex with a shared parking area. I’ve had new upstairs neighbors for a few months. They are youngish hipsters (probably in their mid 20s) who seemed okay at first. When they moved in I wanted to make them feel welcome, so I gave them a bottle of locally made wine (knowing that as hipsters they would probably like such a gift) which was pretty expensive too, and offered the use of my front porch anytime.

It seems like my efforts at goodwill didn’t mean much. They fight every night (it’s always him I hear) and are completely uncooperative in every way you can imagine. Or at least the guy is.

I never see the fiancee, who is supposedly an artist of some kind, but the guy has proved to be a passive-aggressive d**k. His behavior seems to indicate severe, possibly malignant, covert narcissism. I wonder if his fiancee is so silent and invisible because she suffers from PTSD.

First was the problem I had with their cat. They have two Himalayans, and for about a month, one of them was always sitting in front of my door and would try to get inside whenever I went to open it. My roommate told me this cat would be sitting out there all day on one of the porch chairs. It seemed like they expected us to take her in, and maybe they thought I was a “crazy cat lady” because there are already 3 cats in this small apartment. My daughter’s cat, BabyCat, has anxiety and territorial issues, and was beginning to act very sketchy and neurotic, compulsively grooming and meowing anxiously whenever the neighbor’s cat was outside my front door, which was most of the time.

I called my neighbor about the problem and he said snottily, “well, we can’t keep her upstairs, because she doesn’t get along with our other cat, and she doesn’t like being inside anyway.”

Well, then, idiot, why don’t you re-home her? I didn’t tell him this. He did nothing. The cat was still outside. She was dirty and unkempt and it looked like she was never fed. I called him again a few days later and left a message. I got no response. Being an animal lover, I hated the fact I had to start chasing her away, but what else could I do? Even if I could have taken in another cat, which I absolutely can’t, he probably would have been angry about it.

One day he saw me chasing the cat away from my front door and gave me a look that could kill, so I knew he was mad (he probably thinks I’m “cruel to animals” even though I’m anything but. But after that, I didn’t see the cat again.

Not their cat, just one I found on Google but the expression on this cat is epic.

Now I’m dealing with the parking issue. They have two cars, and between myself, my daughter, and my roommate, we have 3. So there a total of five cars parked in a space that can really only hold three. The neighbors are environmentalists and don’t want to “ruin the grass”, even though they have never once mowed it (mowing the shared large front yard and the back yard falls on me, or whoever I can get to do it–and their side of the house is covered with 3 foot tall weeds). So what they do is they park both their cars on the gravel, and don’t bother to angle their cars so that I can get out easily in the morning (I have to back up over the gravel driveway to get out). This guy is completely uncooperative, as you can see from these two phone conversations. His tone seems snotty and entitled to me and he’s a liar too.

First text conversation:

He was lying. I could hear him and a bunch of their friends upstairs. They never did move the car, and the next morning I almost hit it trying to back out.

In the second text conversation, the last message got sort of messed up, but I was trying to explain that I couldn’t use the other entrance because that goes into the parking area of the apartment complex next door, and they don’t want us to drive through there so it’s usually blocked off. I would be forced to drive through the yard to get around that. So backing out is really the only way.

Second text conversation (this was today):

I finally got him to agree to angle his car differently so I can get out, but not until I threatened to call the landlord about the problem (that part can’t be seen in the text conversation, because I told him this over the phone) and that if he didn’t start to angle his car, I would probably hit it trying to get out.

I hate the way this narcissistic brat is forcing me to resort to threats and aggression. That’s not me at all, but it’s the only thing that seems to work with him, and the fiancee might as well be a ghost because I never even see her at all. I wonder if they’ll make it to actual marriage.

If you are a member of my family who happens to read my blog, I am not going to apologize for anything I have said regarding certain family members (you know who you are). I feel perfectly justified in saying what I do, because it’s the truth. I am sorry if anything I have said hurts anyone’s feelings, but there have been grave injustices done to me by certain family members that deserve to be called out. Yes, I know…the truth hurts. I do not use anyone’s real names, so if it bothers you it’s your own guilty conscience. If you don’t like what I have to say then don’t read my blog. No one held a gun to your head telling you to. So if you don’t want to get burned, keep your hands off the stove. It’s my blog and I say whatever I please because doing so helps ME. I need to take care of ME now and stop worrying about what certain members of the family think of me. My blog is a wonderful adjunct to therapy, which I have been in for a year now. I will carry these wounds for the rest of my life but I am getting better. I’m finally realizing I’m a valuable, worthwhile person with a LOT to offer the world and to others. A lot of wonderful people do value me and like what I have to say, even if they’re not the people who should have loved me unconditionally without judgment and derision. I write my blog because it helps ME. So it you don’t like it, I suggest you don’t read it.

Oh, one more thing. If I am disinherited (as I suspect I am), I have plans to write a book a la Christina Crawford. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. The chickens WILL come home to roost. Justice WILL be done. There will be no more forgiveness. If I write that book, it’s going to be successful and I will be successful after all (no longer the impoverished loser you all think I am), but it will be at your expense! How’s THAT for poetic justice?

One thing this whole sorry mess surrounding my dad’s death has done is give me COURAGE to stop hiding the truth about my awful family. So there is a hidden blessing.

Like this:

Women are always stereotyped as shopaholics, and in fact it’s true. Most other women I know would love nothing more than to spend an entire day shopping. Not me, though. I’d rather be broken down on the road waiting for the tow truck. Never mind the fact I rarely have enough money to buy much anyway, I just hate everything about it. I hate the crowds, I hate waiting on line for a dressing room, I hate waiting on line to pay, I hate some officious individual asking, “Can I help you?” when all I’m doing is LOOKING (do I look like a thief to you?). I also hate the lack of clocks or windows in large stores (I guess they want you to forget what time it is so you stay longer and browse more, just like in casinos).

Clothing shopping is the worst. I have no patience for it at all. I have a pear shaped body and it’s always so hard to find anything that fits right or looks good on me. The mirrors in dressing rooms are always brightly lit with unflattering fluorescent lights, which doesn’t make any sense to me–don’t they want you to look good so you’ll buy their items? Maybe they do that so you’ll keep trying more things on and never leave the store. Like you’re in Hotel California or something.

Whenever I need to buy an item of clothing, I always know exactly what I’m looking for, go in, find it, pay for it, and hightail it outta there. I shop like a man. I don’t like to spend hours and hours “browsing” and trying things on just to see how I look in them. That’s why I always shop alone. I can’t stand waiting around while other people with me just HAVE to try on that cute this or adorable that, and then they have to keep asking you how they look. I can think of nothing more boring. I’d rather be waiting on line at the DMV (okay, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it’s almost that bad!) If I MUST shop with another person, I’d rather it be a man because the stereotype about women is mostly true. For me shopping isn’t therapy–it’s something I need therapy to recover from!

The advent of the Internet has pretty much solved that problem. Now I just order everything I need online and don’t have to bother with the stores at all.

Bookstores are something entirely different. I could (and I have) spend an entire day browsing in a bookstore, reading everything I can get my hands on. My idea of heaven is a celestial Barnes and Noble bookstore, with an attached Starbucks, of course. The only problem with bookstore browsing is that you’re actually consuming their products with no intention of paying for them. Standing (or sometimes sitting down!) in an aisle reading a book is akin to eating food in the grocery store and not intending to pay for it. Eventually, you start getting looks from management and at that point you know it’s buy or get out. Since I usually don’t have enough cash to buy all the books I want (and it’s always a lot of books), the library serves my needs just fine.

Like this:

I won’t be seeing my therapist this week because he went out of town, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through another 9 days without seeing him. Two weeks between sessions is way too long. Waiting a week is bad enough. The attachment I feel is strong. I guess that’s good but sometimes I wish I saw him every day, or at least twice a week.

When he told me last week he would be out of town, all I said was “oh shit. How am I going to get through two weeks without seeing you?” Later on I felt like that was selfish and I was tempted to email him apologizing but I didn’t because that’s silly.

I did get my copy of Running With Scissors in the mail today though (that was super fast–I only ordered it on Saturday) and I have other books to read too so I guess I’ll catch up on my reading on Thursday night instead of sulking because my therapist isn’t around. Or write extra blog posts. But it’s still going to be a very long 9 days.

Like this:

I’m referring to those horrible long-legged crickets that leap into your face and scurry like cockroaches when you turn the lights on. They dwell in dark, damp places like caves, damp basements, and in my case, a corner of my kitchen that is always damp because of a slow leak of an outside tap that has turned the soil just outside into a quicksand-like glop where nothing green can grow–but lots of other things can.

If I go into my kitchen late at night and turn on the light, I can HEAR the horrible creatures as they jump up and land on the floor. I kid you not–there are sometimes 20 of them at a time, of all sizes, and some of them are HUGE. There must be thousands more inside the wall facing the outside. The only good thing about them is they’re easy to kill. Babycat used to kill and eat them (leaving their legs behind for me to clean up, ewww), but she’s not with me anymore, and my two remaining cats are too lazy to be of any use. They’d rather hunt big game like mice and voles outside.

I’m trying not to think about the fact the inside of the wall of my kitchen facing the outside probably looks like this. 😮

The type of cricket I’m talking about are called “camel crickets” (Rhaphidophoridae) because their back is arched like a camel’s. They are also called “sprickets” colloquially because of their resemblance to large spiders. The first time I encountered one, it terrified me. I understand that’s a common reaction. But I’ve gotten so used to them that now they just disgust and annoy me.

They’re pretty easy to kill, unlike the fleas I’ve also done battle with (this year being no exception, in spite of far fewer animals in the house). They will leap and try to get away, but often they just sit there and let you crush them. It doesn’t take much to destroy a camel cricket. Their exoskeletons appear to be very thin and easy to crush. Their legs don’t appear to be tightly attached, and more often than not, they fall off when you try to pick the dead insect up with a paper towel. I actually read they shed their legs when they feel threatened by a predator. It doesn’t seem too survival oriented, but actually there’s a reason for them doing this. A predator is so startled by the cricket dropping a leg, that while inspecting it, the insect makes its escape.

How nice of them to leave me a gift.

Next Wednesday the landlord is coming out to fix the leak that’s causing all the dampness–and the infestation of the demon sprickets.
There’s no way a God of any benevolence created this hideous evil bugs. They seem to have come straight from the bowels of hell.

There’s already been enough written about the narcissistic society we live in that rewards greed and selfishness (even ruthlessness) and thinks of corporations as people. There’s something deeply wrong with any society where CEOs are making hundreds of times more than the workers at the bottom of the totem pole, who are trying to subsist on minimum wage and sometimes having to work 2 or 3 jobs just to make ends meet. There’s something evil about any society where the working poor still may not be able to afford a place to live, and cannot even go to the doctor when they get sick. And then on top of that, they are accused of being lazy, stupid, or shiftless. These victims of the system are blamed for all of society’s ills by–you guessed it–the Tea Partiers in their sterile, gated communities and the ultra wealthy who drive new Lamborghinis and own four vacation homes.

But the insane disparity between the ultra-rich and the poor is an issue that’s well-known and finally beginning to be talked about more in the media, and that’s a good thing. I don’t want to get on a political soapbox though. I actually want to talk about something else that’s related but rarely discussed: the way a few people are rewarded for being leeches on society and sucking the life out of hardworking, deserving people who are left with nothing. Ironically, it’s liberal politics, rather than conservative, that’s responsible for what I’m about to rant about. In my opinion, neither of the major political parties have anyone’s best interests at heart. They’re both funded by mega-corporations who only have their own interests in mind and care nothing about the people who live under their dominion.

I’m referring here to my ex. I know I’ve talked about this lifesucking parasite before, but someone brought it up and I’ve been triggered again, so I’m going to rant. I also realize I’ve had issues with those who hold onto a victim mentality, but sometimes things just get to be too much and there’s no escaping our victimization. Sometimes you just have to rant.

Our sick society is rewarding a man richly for having antisocial personality disorder. This conscienceless jerk used and abused me for 27 years — freeloading off my already strapped circumstances for 7 of those years and refusing to work or lift a finger during the time he stayed glued to my couch while I worked my ass off so that he could qualify for disability (SSI). He was always lazy as f*ck and even though was capable of a limited amount of labor, he always made the excuse that he couldn’t work and still qualify for disability (physically, he has diabetes and knee problems).

He expected me to give him a free place to stay, drive him to his doctors appointments, and never even bothered to clean the house or even clean up after himself. This leech stayed on my couch, leaving a dent in it from his constant hateful presence, left his dirty dishes and cigarette butts all over the coffee table, threw trash on the floor, brought in a dog that almost got me kicked out of my house, and expecting me to buy his cigarettes and lottery tickets. He complained about the inexpensive but healthy food I bought. He thought that because he was diabetic, he was entitled to steak every night. He blasted his horrible music when I was trying to sleep and raged at me whenever I asked him to turn it down. He spent all his time trolling political websites, cruelly bullying people he disagreed with. He insisted I hand him over a third of my tax returns, but now that he has money he won’t give me a dime (not that I would ask because technically I’m NC with him).

He was rejected 4 times for SSI, and a year after I got a restraining order on him (for threatening my daughter), he finally got his booty–-which included $31K in back disability pay for the years he freeloaded off me. (Yes, I know I was stupid to allow this but whenever I threatened to kick him out, he’d threaten to commit suicide and make it look like a murder, and I was so beaten down I felt like I didn’t have a choice).

That was bad enough, but a few months ago I learned that his SSI income was DOUBLED because his psychiatrist diagnosed him with ASPD because he’s unemployable and “possibly homicidal.” Thats right–he’s being PAID not to work because he’s an antisocial POS. With the $31K (which is already spent–God knows how he accomplished that in just two months) he bought himself a brand new truck, a huge flat screen TV and a collection of new swords, and no doubt enough weed to last him for months. To his credit, he did buy our son (who he bullied and scapegoated throughout his childhood) some expensive camera equipment, but I suspect there was self-interest involved in this–buying my son over to his side so he can gloat about how I’m too poor to ever buy him anything.

The original $700 a month he was to be getting per month in benefits was increased to $1200 after he was diagnosed with ASPD! He also gets almost $400 a month in food stamps and full medical coverage. He still sits around watching TV and trolling political websites all day and sleeping. Meanwhile I have to keep slaving away at a grueling job that’s slowly killing me and have NOTHING to show for it. I can’t afford cable and don’t even own a TV, have no health insurance, and can’t even get my ancient car fixed. Yes, of course I’m envious. 😡 I get so mad just thinking about it that it can and has ruined my day, so that’s all I’m going to say because it’s unhealthy for me to dwell on it.

I’m trying to let go of this bitterness because there’s nothing I can do about it. I might write an anonymous letter to the paper describing the injustice of this state of affairs, but then again, I might not because I know nothing will be done. I can’t dwell on these bitter feelings even if they’re justified. It’s a very sick society where dangerous and useless people like him get to live high off the hog and honest people who try to play by the rules have to slave away at 2 or 3 jobs just to have food on the table–AND we still have to pay taxes to keep human cancers like him enjoying their creature comforts.

I have a very physical job. The good thing about this is it keeps me in good shape and my weight has stayed down. I also like the fact I don’t have to sit in an office all day and deal with petty and stupid office politics, something that’s about as good for me as chocolate is for dogs. 🙄 I quit my desk job two years ago because of the politics. I like working alone.

The bad thing about having such a physical job is that I’m getting too old to be doing this much longer. Two nights this week I have come home so exhausted I lay down to take a “nap” and both times, slept until the wee hours of the morning, only a few hours before I have to get ready to go back to my grueling job again. Both times, I didn’t even eat dinner. Who wants to eat a meal at 3 in the morning? Not me.

It makes me so mad that what I really want to do–write on my blogs–I seem to have so little time for. My job just takes everything out me. Why are so many of us slaving away at jobs we don’t like and have so little to show for our labor? I hardly make anything. My car’s in the shop now and I can’t even afford to get it fixed. Why can’t we live in a world where it’s possible for most of us to make a living wage doing what we love instead of what we must? Why do we even bother?

I’d quit, but the problem is, there isn’t really anything else in this part of the country for a shy and socially awkward person in the second half of life whose only real skill is writing and blogging.